Jon Hamm is a Dead-Eyed and Handsome Hologram in Marjorie Prime

If you could make a hologram of someone you loved and interact with it every single day, would you do it?

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This is the premise of Marjorie Prime, a movie that did gangbusters at Sundance and will likely make scores of people cry quietly into their sweatshirts when it eventually hits theaters. Hamm is Walter, a hologram of Marjorie’s (Lois Smith) late husband. He is as Marjorie remembered him, handsome and kind, and she forms an intimate connection with him that is somehow stronger than her connection with her real life daughter, played by Geena Davis.

Fun fact: this question has already been posited to great effect by that episode of Black Mirror that made me ugly-cry and by Her, which also hit me in the feelings in a way that felt unnecessary and rude. But that won’t stop Hollywood! Another fun fact: per Vulture, Jon Hamm was ignored on set by the rest of his peers so as to better help him get into character.

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Being sexually attracted to Jon Hamm is like being sexually attracted to the golden god of your high school who now works at a car dealership in your hometown—you know that you’re better than it, but you just can’t help yourself. With that in mind, willfully ignoring Jon Hamm on set might be kind of nice.

Marjorie Prime hits theaters sometime soon, ideally just in time for the holidays, when it feels more acceptable to sob hysterically in public.

Senior Writer, Jezebel

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DISCUSSION

tampabeeatch
TampaBabaYaga (Name changes reflect identity crisis)

I hate when people do this, but I’m going to do the “I haven’t read the article yet but....” It’s been A DAY and my brain is being a slippery fucker so reading this made me think of Amazon Prime and then made me think “I want Jon Hamm to be the voice of my Echo instead of Alexa”. And then skimming the comment that came up before I posted, it made me think “That would be fine, but who’s voice would I really want on my Echo?” I think I’d like Hugh Laurie, and then I could wake up at 3ish and say “Hugh, what time is it?” or Hugh, play me the Hamilton Soundtrack.” I want programmable Echo men.

(I’m tipsy, and a snake may have given birth in my house, and our country now apparently allows unilateral dictates by tweets. Please cut me some slack and let me have this.)